


Tomorrow Will Be Kinder

by noos



Series: stolen moments [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-05 18:37:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/726540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noos/pseuds/noos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arya never saw it coming. One day he was there, fixing up some sword in his forge while she sat nearby skinning a wild rabbit she'd caught earlier in the day, and the next he was gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tomorrow Will Be Kinder

**Author's Note:**

> My first post here on AO3 :) I really hope you guys like it!

Arya never saw it coming. 

One day he was there, fixing up some sword in his forge while she sat nearby skinning a wild rabbit she’d caught earlier in the day, and the next he was gone. At first she’d thought he’d gone into the woods to clear his head. He liked to take walks early in the morning when the rest of them were still sleeping. He thought she didn’t know, but the truth was she pretended to sleep everyday as he left their makeshift mattress at the crack of dawn. She felt so restless when he was away from her, and no matter how hard she tried to fall back asleep she couldn’t, so she always stayed awake until he was back an hour later. Sometimes, for a split second, she would wonder why she felt like she was fading when he wasn’t near, but then she’d stop herself and chalk it up to familiarity. He’d been her steady companion for the past four years now, and she was used to having him beside her, that was all. 

But on that morning, when three hours later he was still nowhere in sight, her anxiety started to take over. She kept repeating to herself that he was a man grown now who knew how to take care of himself, that she needn’t worry, that he would be back soon. She nestled herself in the corner of the forge and waited for him, willing her frantic heart to stop racing and her fear and panic to subside. When an hour later he’d still not shown, she went into panic mode. Lem and Anguy hadn’t seen him that morning either, but Tom mentioned he remembered seeing him sneak into the woods the evening before. Arya had had a little too much wine the night before and she vaguely remembered Gendry carrying her over to their bed in the forge.

At Tom’s words, she rushed into the woods to their spot. On her 14th name day, Gendry had taken her into the woods. They’d found a neat spot by a stream under a huge oak tree that reminded Arya so much of home. They’d settled in the grass, and Gendry had given her a sword he’d forged for her. It was as thin as Needle had been, with a wolf for a pommel. Arya had been so happy she’d jumped into Gendry’s lap and kissed his face too many times to count. When she realized the awkward position her excitement had put them in, she tried to wiggle out of his lap as smoothly as possible, and spent the rest of the afternoon playing around with her sword as Gendry lay under the tree watching her and dosing off a few times. At sunset they’d packed their stuff and gone back to their “home” at the forge. But after that day, they’d made it a habit to come back to “their” spot every day so Arya could practice. Sometimes Gendry would fight her, infuriating her as he went easy on her. Other times, she’d be too tired and would lie next to him on the grass. But on most days, he would lie around and she would practice, her eyes lighting up every time the sword hit the bull’s eye on her practice tree, and she could see Gendry from the corner of her eye smiling too.

Much to her chagrin, when she got to their spot in the woods, it was empty with no sign of Gendry at all. Arya felt her chest tighten at the sight of their spot bare of his presence, and her breathing became labored as she sunk to the ground, leaning her back on the trunk of the huge oak tree. He wasn’t here. He wasn’t at the forge. Lem told her he wasn’t at the inn either. He could be hunting, Arya thought hopefully, but then she remembered that he knew far too well that she was much better at hunting than he was so he wouldn’t have gone without her. She felt a lump in her throat as she swallowed back the tears. She wouldn’t cry, not yet, because that would mean that she’d given up, but she couldn’t do that yet. She would find Gendry. He would show up any minute now and take one look at her red-rimmed eyes and pale face and he would worry himself silly fussing over her and trying to know what was wrong with her. She would call him stupid and the corners of his mouth would turn upwards slightly in a knowing smirk. Arya found herself smiling at the thought, picturing his smile as his black hair fell into his startling blue eyes. 

After a few minutes, she turned towards the trunk to take a look at the bull and the wolf they had once carved into the bark of the tree as they waited for the sun to dry their clothes after they’d gone for a swim in the stream. Her breath caught in her throat. The wolf was there. She remembered how Gendry had carefully picked up a pointy rock and started carving the wolf into the trunk. She had followed suit and picked up a rock of her own and proceeded to work on carving her bull. Their work was sloppy and messy and full of life, but then again so were they, and so they were perfectly content with the result. But now, where her bull used to be, there was nothing. Someone had carved the trunk up and down over the bull until she could no longer see it. She felt her heart hammer in her chest and her vision started to blur as tears made their way down her cheeks. _He’s gone,_ she realized. She hadn’t wanted to admit it to herself, but she knew the bull was there on the tree the day before, and it wasn’t there anymore, just like Gendry wasn’t there anymore. She felt herself choke on her sobs as she punched the tree trunk, felt her knuckles bleeding as she hit the tree harder and harder. It hurt her. He hurt her. He’d left her. Even when he promised he never would. 

When all the strength that was left in her was gone, she felt her arms loosen up and her knees give out, so she curled herself into a fetal position under the tree, thinking back to that night just one week before. Lem had gotten his hands on some wine, and they had drunk until their words slurred and their steps became unsteady. She and Gendry snuck to their spot after, and in her drunken stupor she’d kissed him. He’d pulled away mumbling something about her being drunk and him being a baseborn bastard. She didn’t remember much after that, but she’d woken up the next day on her mattress and Gendry never said anything about it, so she’d assumed it was a dream. But now she knew, she realized, that it wasn’t a dream. She remembered how he had responded to her kiss for a split second before pulling away. She remembered how he tasted like wine and copper and mint, and how his calloused fingers lingered on her cheek when he pulled away, and how he kissed her forehead before completely pulling away.

She wouldn’t have drank so much wine on a usual day, but that morning Gendry has shook her awake as she yelled for Jon in her sleep. As she clung to Gendry’s shirt, she admitted how much she missed her brother and how she wished she could be with him wherever he was. She’d later drowned her sorrows hoping to forget.

But Jon was gone. And now Gendry too. He’d left her, just like she knew he would. She felt numb, could only feel the tears as they made their way down her cheeks.

It was Lem who found her hours later, still curled up under the great oak tree. He’d sat himself next to her, told her how Vick, one of the members of the brotherhood, had seen Gendry out with his hammer and his sword, his bundle slung on his back, heading North. Lem told her he’d reckoned Gendry would be back soon, but Arya knew. He didn’t want her and he was gone. She walked back with Lem and slept at the forge alone.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He comes back 2 years and 62 days later. She’s sitting in their spot, under the oak tree, running her fingers on the bull she carved again next to the wolf on the tree bark, when she hears footsteps. Lem and Anguy never follow her here, and neither does Tom or any other men of the brotherhood, so she knows it’s none of them. She’s on her feet, sword in hand ready to pounce when she sees them. Three figures coming her way. A man with a strong build, matted hair in the darkest shade of black and startling blue eyes. Another with a head full of thick brown curls and eyes as stormy as hers. And a flame-haired girl she doesn’t recognize with a face full of freckles. 

She drops her sword as Jon pushes his way to her and sweeps her into his arms. She buries her face into his chest, takes in his scent, musk and wind and North.

“You’re here,” she manages to get out as he pulls her away to look at her face. “You’re alive,” she continues as she clasps her hands behind his back unwilling to let go of him yet.

“I’m here and I’m never leaving you again,” Jon starts to say.

“You can’t prom-“

“I’m NEVER leaving you again,” he promises more fiercely interrupting her and looking her straight in the eye. “Gendry came to find me to bring me back to you,” he explains pointing in the direction where the bullheaded boy stands close to the flame-haired girl. “And I’m not leaving you ever again.”

Arya lets go of Jon then and makes her way over to Gendry. They hold each other’s gaze for a while, blue on gray.

“I didn’t break my promise,” he whispers so low she almost doesn’t hear him. “I didn’t leave you. I just went to find Jon for you so you wouldn’t leave me,” he mumbles, his eyes drifting to the tree where a new bull has been carved. His eyes find hers again and he thinks he sees a hint of shyness in them.

Arya takes a step forward towards Gendry, but then she hesitates. He’d left her. And she’d spent 2 years and 62 days trying to move on, wondering why everyone left her, willing herself to forget him, to forget them both. But now they were back. Gendry had brought them back. He’d gone to find Jon. For her.

She snaps out of her trance when the wild girl with the fiery locks takes a step their way. She’d forgotten the girl was there. The girl is practically next to Gendry now, and Arya takes a step back as her eyes dart back and forth from the red-headed wildling to Gendry. _This cannot be happening._

Her face crumples for a split second before she pulls herself together. But Gendry doesn’t miss it. He never did miss anything when it came to her. He read her like an open book. Except when it came to the way she felt about him.

His eyebrows shoot up as he looks at Arya and then turns to look at Ygritte suddenly realizing what the raven-haired girl must be thinking.

He takes a step towards Arya, but before he can say anything Jon speaks up.

“Arya, this is Ygritte, my wife. Ygritte, this is my sister, Lady Arya,” Jon says gesturing from one girl to  the other.

“Jon, for the last time, I’m not your wife!”

“I am NOT a lady!”

The two girls erupt at the same time. Jon and Gendry both chuckle and Arya and Ygritte share a look before they both start giggling. Arya lets out a breath she doesn’t realize she’s holding. Her eyes find Gendry’s again, and before she knows what she’s doing, she closes the distance between them and throws herself into his arms. He puts his arms around her and nuzzles his face in her hair while she buries hers in his shoulder.

“I missed you,” he admits kissing the top of her head.

“Don’t ever leave again,” Arya mumbles into his chest, tightening her grip on him. She sounds so weak. She hates sounding weak, but she never realized how much she needed Gendry until he was gone, so she isn’t about to let her pride stand in the way. Somewhere in the background, she hears Ygritte tell Jon to stop introducing her as his wife if he’d like to keep his manhood and call him an idiot before telling him to come with her so they can give Arya and Gendry some time alone. Jon starts to object, but his voice seems to get farther and farther away so Arya can only assume Ygritte is getting her way. Arya smiles into Gendry’s neck. She’s gonna like Ygritte, she thinks.

She feels Gendry pull away slightly so she reluctantly loosens her grip on him, but she doesn’t fully let go. She’s scared if she does, he’ll disappear again. Her eyes find his, and she realizes that somehow they’ve wound up on the forest floor with her seated in his lap. She takes in the look on his face, and one of her hands moves up to fiddle with the hairs on the back of his neck.

“You better not pull away this time,” she whispers as she leans her face so close to his that their noses touch. His mouth twitches in that familiar smirk of his.

“As m’lady commands,” he says before meeting her lips.

She’ll forgive him for it just this once. They stay this way, wrapped up in each others’ arms in the woods under their tree for a long time before they hear footsteps again followed by Jon’s accusing voice.

“Oi, you may have saved my life and Ygritte’s and Arya’s more times than I know, but she’s still my little sister!” Jon says making his way to them as he finds them bundled together on the forest floor.

“By the Gods, Jon Snow, leave the boy to proclaim his love in peace!” Ygritte starts to argue before she smacks Jon on the head. 

Arya’s ears perk up at that and she vaguely hears Jon insist that she’s still his little sister. She looks at Gendry and finds him blushing. She wants to laugh she’s so happy. She doesn’t remember the last time she felt so giddy.

“Me too, stupid” she whispers into Gendry’s ear before she pulls herself off the floor and heads towards her brother and Ygritte. Gendry stands up and follows her with a dopey grin on his face.


End file.
